A Word of Fashion Advice
by Literate
Summary: Put one of them on a fashion critique game show and they wouldn’t hesitate to leave the other in shreds, on their knees, weeping and begging for mercy. [A Hitachiin Story.]


A story in which the Hitachiins meet the "style" of the "future." Something weird, and I'm not bashing any sort of style. This is my attempt at satrical humor... I think. :D

Warning: Rated T for implications to murder, but not really. Generally, Hikaru and Kaoru's profanity, what not.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hitachiins. But I seriously want to.

* * *

The Hitachiins were known to be very competitive. Very. If a rival company became more popular than theirs, they would slit their opponent's throats off, hang the corpses out to dry, and burn them with oil and peanut butter. Figuratively. Fortunately and unfortunately, the Hitachiins weren't stupid enough to commit homicide in front of the media and press.

However, one of these Hitachiins, while drumming his fingers on the glass table, felt like screwing the public and strangling this unknown company himself.

This one Hitachiin was named Hitachiin Kaoru, the younger of the two twins. Kaoru was the rational, the mellower one, the one who would think everything thoroughly and wouldn't kill anyone for no reason.

So in his case, harboring a feeling of intense hatred was a warning signal blaring that something was very off.

Very, very off, as the other twin had come to realize.

Hikaru, the elder of the two, was puzzled; his normally good-natured twin was pissed off. The signs? Shredding his own research papers, dumping a whole cup of coffee into the trash bin, making strangling motions in the air, cursing colorfully at random things (AKA doors, staplers, and paper clips), and generally being in a very, very bad mood.

It wasn't hard for him to conclude that something was bothering his brother.

Although any other good older brother would've noticed and asked it sooner, Hikaru came up to him, as the younger twin drew a stick figure on a piece of paper and stabbed it, and he discreetly asked-

"So. Why are you so pissed?"

Now, that wasn't discreet; but this was Hikaru, the insensitive blunt extraordinaire.

"Can you believe it?!" Kaoru seethed, gripping the hardly used stress ball so tightly it could puncture, and Hikaru didn't believe that that kind of material exploded. He glared at Hikaru, before pulling his brother's face and putting it right in front of his computer. Hikaru had to adjust to the blaring brightness levels before looking, his brother continuing his rant, "Some mysteriously stupid company has churned out a bunch of ridiculous fashion lines. _AND THE PUBLIC LOVE IT_!"

Hikaru held his head tightly, ignoring the buzzing headache that came from being this close to his usually soft brother. His eyes scanned the webpage obediently, his amber eyes widening-

"Damn. They _suck_," he spat out, looking distastefully at the screen, his brows knitting. He looked at his twin, who was steaming quietly, leaning back on his seat, "Do you know why people like it?"

"Hikaru, it's flashy neon colors, _why not?_" Kaoru scoffed, his words coming out slickly. He leaned back entirely, setting his feet onto the table near the keyboard, "I researched in; it seems that they're paying most of the popular idols and pop stars to try on these horrendous outfits. And since the people love their stars, they decide to copy them- how annoying are these teenagers?"

"You know," Hikaru placed his head on his hands, perusing the site again. He closed his eyes, "They look like freakin' space suits."

"Obviously, people think space suits are on the rise."

"Damn them then; we're entering a world that would probably have no fashion sense," Hikaru sighed, straightening up, and he adjusted his tie, "We need to get to work then; we've been goofing off too much, Kaoru."

"Sure, Hikaru…" he paused, then sat up right, Hikaru watching his every move. His words came out slowly, icily, "You know, this company is… doing a fashion show… and guess what, Hikaru."

The elder twin blinked, a smirk spreading out from his face, "Hmm, lemme think. We're not invited?"

The other twin let out a disapproving 'cheh' and frowned, his eyes boring holes into the computer screen, "Those mindless idiots aren't going to get away that easily."

"Ah," Hikaru smiled a chilling grin, "Not from the Hitachiins."

-

The Hitachiin were known to be very cunning. Extremely, very much so, over the edge, and spilling over, _cunning_. They would take any measures to get what they wanted, and to get what they wanted, they had to resort to all and any ways of getting it, many ways including, bribing, threatening, pretending, lying, and going incognito.

The Hitachiin twins were no different. That's why they were standing at the door of a famous hotel; the site at which the party was being held- the dinner party promoting the horrendous clothing and attire ever to exist on this earth- in their opinion.

Hitachiin Hikaru felt confident that no one would be able to recognize him; he was wearing his own line of casual wear, straps and pockets adorning his forest green slacks, his top a deep ocean blue over long white sleeves, a black cap and sunglasses for extra effect, and a pair of brown boots. Not to mention he was wearing a long leather coat with tons of decor- but that was because Kaoru had forced it onto him because the stupid weather reporters said it would be below twenty degrees Celcius! That wasn't cold.

He adjusted his black shades, before glancing at his twin, who wore the opposite of him, wearing deep orange where he was wearing cerulean, and forest green cargo pants, and a smaller (and therefore, cooler) coat-

Hitachiin Kaoru felt weird, not only because they were supposed to be in "disguise" but they were in a very bad disguise. Next time, he should refuse Hikaru's ideas about going incognito in casual clothing. Ninja _apparel_- the thing that was entirely black with black mouth cover and headband- _that_ he would understand as going undercover! Hell, even random bunny outfits would do! But not casual, just not casual. Everyone would give them a strange look that says- _Hey, I spy a spy!_

Kaoru groaned inwardly as they nodded, showed their IDs, and generally sneaking into the party-

Well. They didn't do it that well.

Kaoru rolled his eyes as the security guard looked suspiciously at them, while Hikaru was chatting _something_-

"Come on, I want to see their designs; I heard they were on the rage," Hikaru said amiably, and surprisingly convincing aside from the kind of designer clothes he had on. Suddenly, he grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him close, very close, "My friend here thought their designs were so cool, that he's got to see them! Please?"

The guard furrowed his thick brown brows in apprehension, and then he ran a hand through his gelled hair, "Fine, you may go in."

Kaoru could feel Hikaru's grip tighten as the elder twin smiled and guided them both inside, finally safe from the guard's eyes-

'_Where have I seen them before?'_ the man scratched his cheek before narrowing his eyes in confusion, _'I'm _sure_ the Hitachiins aren't gay though… Are they?'_

And somehow Kaoru was convinced that Hikaru did his job a little _too_ well.

-

The Hitachiins were known to be very committed. _Too_ committed, people might say. If anything they worked for or towards was insulted, they would waste no time in getting revenge and defending their beliefs. Stubborn and strong-willed, they never back down from their beliefs and fight for it, blood, teeth, and pride. They would do anything to protect their name, their beliefs, and their version of good style.

Some they tolerated- they were okay because they aren't stealing their customers. Some they toppled- they were hazardous to their company because they were too high in the social chain. And some they plain can't handle; so now they're shooting point-blank with some big mega ray at a neon-flashy, space-suit design that steals their customers.

If people knew that that company was going to be flattened by the two ill-tempered Hitachiin, they would've prayed for their survival. No- instead, they were…

-drinking tea while watching the worst show of the century and wishing the entrepreneurs good luck in their next show.

And, Hikaru noted with a grimace, these were all the companies that knew nothing about fashion-

Hayatoshi, Yoshiku, Juunen, Kobayaki and other commercial-related companies- Kaoru seethed, eyes roaming distastefully over the crowd. No, he and his brother didn't understand why this was so popular- even _looking_ at Japanese teens wearing those things were worse than staring at the black Lolita styles! … Not that Lolita style was bad or anything- cough- they dressed Haruhi up with the gloomy clothes, like a black, emotionless doll-

_Anyway_, back at the task at hand- they need to blend into the crowd and do nothing_, nothing_ suspicious.

Hikaru only adjusted his shades, hiding his amber eyes as he walked near the center of the grand ballroom; the entire room was flashing with neon lights, like a disco thing, and he took a small circular table near the grand fashion runway, setting himself into a chair as Kaoru pulled out his own chair opposite him. A waiter, dressed in a black-white normal waiter wear for a hotel, brought over some drinks; the two picking out the ever so sweet green tea. Sweeter than normal, though- there much be some out-of-the-country people visiting- Hikaru shrugged, taking another small sip.

The chairs were nice- Kaoru thought, but of course, this was a five-star restaurant and it says nothing about fashion, so he let himself be enraptured by the softness of the velvet, while Hikaru trailed his fingers over the tablecloth. The younger twin raised a brow, as Hikaru scowled behind his tinted glasses, _the fabric's second class_.

Kaoru placed one of his legs over the other sophisticatedly, closing his eyes for a brief moment, to see that Hikaru had leaned over, staring past the glasses into his brother's eyes. The younger smiled knowingly before smiling, _the rest is impressive. The hotel-_ he indicated this with a jerk of his head- _bought most of these fabric from us_.

_Ah_, Hikaru leaned back onto his chair, looking at the table cloth strangely, fingering it, _but this one isn't ours. It doesn't have the hidden imprint_.

Kaoru nodded, his smile turning icy, fingering the cloth too, to find the small tiny _H _embossed on the lower side, _so it isn't. It's second-rate. Not ours_.

Hikaru smirked, this time his eyes moving over to the podium, at which the colored lights have now directed themselves to it. The speaker- probably just a little older than the two- was a tall-ish woman with ash brown hair; foreign person, they concluded. And then, she began to talk in English, stuttering slightly, shakily like she wasn't used to this, probably one of those famous people. Kaoru narrowed his eyes as he saw another woman off the side, translating this-

But he and Hikaru needn't much translating; they knew English almost fluently. They listened to her drone on and on, about _'thank you for supporting us!' _and '_we're really grateful to…_' and list all the random people that supported such a ridiculous idea like that.

And then, finally, the models appeared-

And suddenly one of the Hitachiins started to choke on his iced green tea, coughing, hacking, making random spluttering noises that could've been misconceived as hysterical laughter. And to Kaoru, it was- and he began banging his head against the table, tears of laughter emerging from his eyes-

Neither of them saying a word; just laughing as if there wasn't any air. They were used to it; after all, their technique for laughing without the rest of the audience in the dark, dim room noticing that they were disrespecting the show.

After ten minutes of nonstop laughter, Kaoru attempted to stiffen his giggles, trying to hide his ever still present grin behind his notepad- taking notes of the strange nature the suits were.

_They use too much aluminum_, Hikaru pointed with his pencil at a skirt that was a bit _too_ flashy.

_And neon pink burns the eyes_, Kaoru rubbed the eraser end of the pencil into his temple.

The two shared a mischievous and malicious grin before looking back at the amusing fashion show.

The new company would _not_ know what hit it. Especially not when one of the models suddenly lost their skirt to one of the audience members two hours later.

-

The Hitachiins were known for being very critical. Very critical. Sometimes they even criticize other Hitachiin's works; and being ruthless enough to chew out their own family and spit them out relentlessly, they were assured that nothing would match to the sheer force of another Hitachiin. However, put one of them on a fashion critique game show (if any ever existed) they wouldn't hesitate to leave the other in shreds, on their knees, weeping and begging for mercy.

The Hitachiin twins were no exception.

So, bright and early on the next day, Hikaru clicked open his email account and began to type, his brother looking over his shoulders-

_Dear… whoever you are… the owner of –insert company here-…_

_We have got to wonder how on earth are you doing so well, what with all the talk and publicity. Your designs are the worst kinds and why are you even using recycled materials? Nylon, cotton, and other second-rate materials don't work. Not only that but the colors clash, all on the never-do-to-list. You disgrace all the other brands of the world by labeling yourself as one of the best companies in Japan, but we personally know that not one of them would dare endeavor such a stupid feat._

_We don't like it. Screw that. We __**hate**__ it._

_We suggest you kill your company in one week, or we'll take personal measures._

_Signed,_

_Not too happy Hitachiins._

_-_


End file.
